A/N This new computer is weird and did NOT come equipped with Word or anything…I miss Elsie already! ELSIE! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DIE ON ME?! At least she waited until after finals, though.

Chapter 25:

An hour and a half passed since Rose finally fell into a light sleep, two hours since they had all been thrown into the giant metal room. The large observation window hung over them, blank and ominous, and even though the Doctor couldn't see through it from the angle it jutted out from the wall, he could tell it was still empty.

Two of three times towards the beginning of her nap, the Doctor would hear Rose's breath become shorter, shallower, see her brow crease with worry and hear a small whimper or two escape her lips, but she was quickly quieted as the Doctor continued to run his fingers softly through her hair. Very soon her features would relax once more and she would again fall into a peaceful sleep. But the Doctor never once stopped stroking her hair, just in case.

Minutes ticked on but the Doctor was thoroughly content with just sitting there with Rose asleep in his lap. He himself didn't even feel remotely tired, thanks to his first full-night's sleep the night before, but his stomach was once again beginning to protest against his forced fast. He could sense the rest of the slaves crowded into the auction room starting to become restless, nervous and anxious as to why the auction was being delayed and when they would be dragged out and sent back to work. But despite the harsh metal of the bench beneath him and the wall behind him, the Doctor was perfectly comfortable with staying there for hours, days, even, if he could. He was in no rush to return to his training and be torn away from Rose again.

There's no way either of them would be sold that day. Or, at least, that's what the Doctor kept trying to convince himself. In all honesty there was only a relatively good chance they would not be sold. The odds in favor of one of them being chosen was two to forty-one, a 4.65 percent chance since there were forty-three others in the mix as well. However, the Doctor thought worriedly, someone with the title 'prebassador' combined with the way in which the keepers and employees kept talking about them sounded rather stately and respectable – for this society, at least – and the chances of anyone choosing a Slitheen anyway was half that of anyone else in the room, and the prospects of someone like that buying an Ood, who were primarily sold to labor and exploratory camps in this culture, was only a third. Therefore, bringing into account the two Ood and the Slitheen, there was now a 10.05 percent chance of them being sold. And since females were generally more likely to be chosen…

The Doctor had to stop himself from calculating all the numbers and probabilities bouncing around in his head because it was just becoming too dire. He looked around at the down-trodden and defeated faces surrounding him and immediately felt guilty for turning them into numbers and percentages, depersonalizing them in just the same way Eyal had by tattooing those numbers to their wrists. He should not be putting them up against himself and Rose, competing against them. He should be helping them.

But what could he do? Lalay had been right, he was just as stuck as they were. Maybe if he could get away from the facility, he could work from the outside to bring it down and return all these stolen aliens to their rightful homes. But the only way out was to be sold, and he would not leave Rose there alone, even if on that ten percent chance he would be chosen.

His fingers began to twirl a bit of Rose's hair into a complicated braid using five small sections, a traditional braid of the ancient Gallifreyans representing the five dimensions interwoven together. So subconscious was the action that he was actually surprised when he reached the end of her hair. He stared at the plait for a while, thinking. The ancient Gallifreyans used to own slaves, a long, long time ago, but when Rassilon came along and organized them all together he had outlawed the trade and trafficking of another sentient being. It all seemed to make so much sense that the Doctor simply couldn't understand how a society could possibly deem it acceptable.

He was broken out of his thoughts as something happened. A sudden change in the atmosphere, a new presence upon them. The Doctor glanced up quickly at the window and just like before could not see through it, but he could feel through it. Someone or someones were up there now. The auction had started.

He returned his attention to Rose as she shifted in her sleep. Should he wake her up? She had asked him to once the auction began, but she just looked so peaceful and childlike as she slept, the terror and torment of the last few weeks gone from her features. She needed her rest, and also the Doctor couldn't help but think there would be less chance of her being noticed if she remained how she was. Being sold and leaving Rose behind was far from an ideal situation, but Rose being sold and leaving him behind was even worse. How would he be able to find her if he ever got out. How would he know she was safe?

And yet her trust in him had only just been reestablished, and he didn't want to do anything to go against it so soon, and so he followed her wishes. Using his thumb to brush across her cheek, the Doctor whispered, "Rose. Rose, it's time to wake up."

Rose moaned softly and rolled away from him, pressing the side of her nose into his knee. The Doctor was only just able to keep her from rolling off the bench all together. Chuckling softly to himself, he tried again. "Come on, Rose, up and at 'em, rise and shine, wake up and smell the coffee."

"Coffee…" Rose sighed longingly. "Tea?"

"I'll buy you a cuppa once we get out of here, but come on, the auction just started."

That got her eyes open pretty quickly. Her brown eyes flitted sporadically across the ceiling of the auction room before they settled on the Doctor's face and she smiled lightly. "Morning." She managed through a small yawn.

The Doctor smiled back. "Morning, yourself. Sleep well?" Rose shrugged one-sidedly.

"Better than I have been. You said the auction started?"

"I think so, yeah. No one's been sold yet. I'm sorry I woke you, but you asked – "

"It's fine." Rose made no move to sit up, apparently perfectly comfortable with staying laying down on the Doctor's lap. The Doctor had no complaints about this except for the fact that his leg had decided at some point to take a nap all on its own and was only now waking back up, sending spikes of light pins-and-needles up and down his leg. He hadn't even noticed it had fallen asleep.

In the short, comfortable silence that fell between them as Rose closed her eyes again, the Doctor's stomach decided to add to the conversation. Rose giggled as it growled in her ear. "Hungry much?" She teased. The Doctor shrugged.

"Just a little bit. Haven't eaten anything much more than a roll of bread in the last four or five days, so the hunger's starting to catch up with me a bit."

Rose's eyes flew open again at that statement. "Four or five days?" She blanched. "How does that even happen? What did you do to deserve that?"

"Nothing!" The Doctor replied a little too innocently. "I just might have attacked your keeper a little bit after you passed out from the drugs, that's all."

"No wonder he's got it in for you. Are you alright though?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Had worse, will have worse, I'm sure." He answered flippantly.

"Any nausea, dizziness, black spots…?" Rose asked in a mockingly professional voice. The Doctor nudged her in the arm as she started giggling again.

"Hey, I'm supposed to be the doctor here!" He pouted as she continued to laugh. Rassilon, that was a musical sound. Who knew humans could make such gorgeous noise?

A far less pleasant noise rent the air, stifling Rose's and the Doctor's giggles at once. The door to the auction room had been thrown open and three guards appeared. Rose sat up instantly, slinking almost unnoticeably closer to the Doctor's side. Two of the guards entered while the other one stayed by the door, glaring down any of the slaves who dared even look in the direction of the exit. The Doctor felt his hearts freeze mid-beat as he noticed the two guards were walking right towards where he and Rose were sitting. In one movement the Doctor wrapped his arm in front of Rose's chest, both shielding her and pulling her closer at the same time.

One of the guards pointed roughly at the Doctor. "MD196305, yer coming with us."

The Doctor stood up quickly, stepping in front of Rose almost subconsciously. "Oh yeah? Why?" He knew perfectly well why, but he growled it nonetheless. This wasn't…he wouldn't be…this couldn't really be happening. Five percent chance, that was it. Was he really being…?

"Predassador's thinking about buying your pathetic bag of bones and skin." The guard snarl back, looking the Doctor up and down as he approached him, seeming unimpressed. "Can't see why, but…"

"You can't have 'im!" Rose suddenly shouted as she jumped to her feet. The Doctor turned just enough to see fear traced, once again, into her features. She grabbed his arm as if her grasp would be enough to keep him there. "Go tell your prebassador to shove it!"

The smack came so quickly the Doctor hadn't even noticed it until he heard the sharp sound of knuckles striking flesh and Rose crying out in pain. An animalistic growl rumbled out of his throat as he launched himself at the guard who smacked Rose, tossing him backwards into the other guard, who stumbled with surprise under the sudden weight of his comrade.

The Doctor spun around to see Rose cupping her check, eyes alit with unshed tears. He reached up and ran his thumb over his reddened cheek, breath hitching in his throat as he managed to choke out, "It's going to be okay, Rose. I promise. I'll get you –"

He was cut off as he was suddenly grabbed roughly by the arms, the two guards dragging him backwards. The guard who had been stationed at the door had joined them and was approaching Rose, gripping her shoulders and applying enough pressure that her knees buckled beneath her. Instincts flared inside him again. They were hurting her. They were going to keep hurting her. He wasn't there to protect her.

He writhed against the hands dragging him back, bucking and wrenching where he could. He had to get back to her, to say goodbye at least. He thrashed again and by some miracle managed to wiggle his way out of their grasp. He jumped forward, tripping over his own feet in his haste, but it didn't matter. He crashed to his knees right in front of his companion and didn't waste a moment. His hands moved to cup her face, finger brushing away a scared and frustrated tear, and before he could even think about what he was doing he was ducking his head, lips angled for hers, and pulled her into a deep, passionate kiss he had not known he'd been craving until that very moment, when suddenly he wondered how he'd lived without the closeness of Rose, the taste of her lips against his as they were in their bitter farewell.

The kiss ended far too soon. He felt hands encircling his arms again, vice-like, and was jerked away from her again. "No." He heard Rose whisper breathlessly, part stunned and part scared. He was scared too. Something cold and hard had found it's way around one of his wrists and was making it's way around the other, pinning his hands together. The guards continued to pull him, stumbling, backwards with them towards the door.

"NO!" Rose suddenly shouted, trying to stand up against the grip of the guard holding her down, but he was too strong and shoved her back onto the metal floor. Tears were spilling freely down her face now as she watched the Doctor being hauled away from her. He was almost to the door now. Almost gone. "DOCTOR!"

The Doctor didn't take her sorrowful eyes off her until he was thrown through the door, the metal ringing as it was slammed shut behind them. Somewhere in his mind he was aware of Bachir shouting angrily, but he couldn't tell if it was at him or at someone else. It hardly mattered. A numbness had crept over the Doctor. He was being sold. He was being sold as a slave to a stranger. He was being sold as a slave to a stranger who was separating him from his Rose.

He barely noticed as the metal cuffs were tightened around his wrists and a gag was secured over his mouth. He wouldn't be able to speak anyway, he was too afraid he would vomit instead. What happened now? Where was he going? Would he ever see Rose again…?

A shove between the shoulder blades snapped him out of it. He shook his head slightly, annoyed at how the gag forced him to breath through his nose, which had been broken the night before and was still healing. He couldn't think like that, he chastised himself. There's a silver lining on every black hole, he tried to remind himself as he was escorted roughly out of the room by a posse of four guards. It might be easier to escape his new…owner – he gagged at the word – than it would be to escape this place, and then he could get to work on rescuing Rose and the rest of the unfortunate aliens from the outside. It's more like a gray lining, he thought with a wince as he realized how many ifs and maybes there were in that loose plan, not to mention the fact that he had no idea how long it would take him and for how long he'd be away from Rose. But it was the best he could come up with right then to keep the shock and tears of frustration at bay.

He was led up another flight of stairs, these at least adorn with a nice carpet that felt unbelievable pleasant on his bare feet. He schooled his features into a mask that appeared neither scared nor angry nor even defeated. Just a dash of defiance in his eyes finished off the look as the door before his was pulled open and he was ushered into the new room.

He almost froze in his tracks, the mask nearly slipping off. The room was quite large with a comfortable low ceiling, deep red carpet, and wood paneled walls on three sides. A few Eyal employees occupied the room as well as an older Drephesh in a suit and a young man with light charcoal gray skin and silver hair that stuck out in all directions in a stylishly windswept way. His buyer, he guessed.

The guards pushed the Doctor forward and kicked out the back of his leg, sending him to his knees. The soft carpet caught him, so it was not too uncomfortable.

The man with the gray skin – the prebassador – had been watching him closely with a curious eye before glancing over at the Drephesh in the suit, one eyebrow quirked at the Doctor's gag. The Drephesh chuckled good-naturedly.

"Company policy." He explained simply. "Especially this one gets a bit mouthy around authority"

The Doctor couldn't help it as he rolled his eyes. The buyer turned back to him in time to catch the eye roll and the Doctor made the distinct intention of looking him squarely in the eyes, which were light gray, a few shades darker than the whites of his eyes and a few shades lighter than his skin. He did not see Bachir in the way the buyer stared back at him, nor did he see Blondie or Rat-Face. He saw something else, but he wasn't entirely sure what. The buyer watched him closely with the same curious intensity he had before, as if trying to see straight through him and being stopped quite suddenly and impolitely just on the surface.

And suddenly the Doctor noticed the forth wall, which was not covered in dark wood paneling. The forth wall was completely made out of glass, creating a window jutting out diagonally from the wall. It was the observation window. And not too far below he could see the other slaves in the stock room, each looking a little less anxious than before, except for one person. The Doctor felt the burn of tears threatening as he watched the guard toss Rose aside as if she were nothing and walk away. Rose landed on her hands and knees, shoulders shaking as she sobbed all by herself. He felt both his hearts break a little at the sight, knowing he was not able to comfort her and would not be able to for a long time.

A blue skinned girl slowly made her way over to Rose. The Doctor almost laughed despite himself as Lalay cautiously bent down beside the sobbing human and wrapped a hesitant arm around her, drawing Rose into a comforting embrace. At least she had Lalay, for now, while he couldn't be there. His appreciation for the Aonian soared ten-fold at the sight. He forced away the tears that were threatening to spill over and tore his gaze from the window. The longer he watched her the harder it was going to be to go through with his plan.

"His designation is MD196305, but if you decide to go through with the deal you may call him whatever you like, of course."

"Do I have to decide right now?" The buyer asked without taking his eyes off the Doctor. The Doctor was surprised to hear him speak with a slight accent, as Drephesh was clearly not his native language. He didn't think these beings were capable of coexisting with other life-forms enough to agree to exchange goods and slaves.

"Of course not." The Drephesh was saying. "We have a twenty-four hour policy in which you can make your decision before the stock's put back on the market. You cannot take him out with you during that time, but you are more than welcome to stay here and get yourself acquainted. We have some lovely guestrooms on the upper levels if you'd be interested."

"Yes, that would be fantastic, thank you."

"Would you like him brought to your room as well, or taken to another holding room in the meantime?"

There was a pause as the man was clearly thinking it over, his eyes glued to the Doctor's as if in a trance. Good, good start…

"Yes, my room, please." The Doctor didn't let the flutter of fear he felt at those words make its way into his mask. The guestrooms? Why was this man having him brought to his room? Unless he was…? The Doctor swallowed lightly and continued to glare up at the buyer with what he hoped was a look of calm defiance. Don't let him see how anxious you are.

The Doctor was suddenly dragged back to his feet and hauled carelessly out of the room. He didn't protest, didn't even attempt to struggle or put up a fight. He just continued to stare intensely at the buyer, already feeling unease and uncertainty creeping into the man's thoughts.

The door snapped shut behind him and he was ushered back down the stairs and through a new hallway lit with lamps and carpeted much like the observation room. The guards all snickered around him as they shoved him down a different hall, and then another. The Doctor didn't even bother trying to remember each of the turns they took. The numbness had taken over him again now that he no longer had a tangible source to focus on. Except for the same thoughts that had been tumbling around his head throughout the whole encounter. He was a slave. He was a slave being sold to a stranger. He was a slave being sold to a stranger who had asked for the Time Lord to be taken to his guestroom. Taken to his guestroom in order to get acquainted with him.

The Doctor shuddered as they reached a nice wooden door, the guards laughing cruelly on all sides of him, as the door was pushed open. The Doctor swallowed heavily. This was it. Would it be worth it?

TBC

A/N Déjà vu anyone? We're right back where we started! Finally! So, now I ask you: Do you think Jancon (the buyer) is going to be good or bad? Do you think the Doctor will finally be able to catch a break, or is he simply moving from one ring of hell to the next? Let me know what you think in a review while I work on the next chapter! Till next time!

(Also, don't shoot me if the math's wrong...numbers and I generally don't get along very well when left in the same room, so it's a miracle I managed a truce between us long enough to write that paragraph...)